I'll be there for you
by rhapsodybree
Summary: Three times Marcus was there for Stevie.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

It was dark in the house, moonlight only offering a weak light as Stevie took each step down the stairs softly.

There was a murderer around town, and they were all on tenterhooks.

She was tired, but unable to sleep. Having checked on Xander countless times, she'd decided to head downstairs.

Passing the lounge room, her attention was drawn to the couch where she knew she would find a familiar figure: and indeed it was the sleeping form of Marcus sprawled upright.

Exhaustion lined his features, and as she stood in front of him, she saw that he hadn't even removed his boots. Heading over to the cupboard, she removed a blanket. Loosening the fabric, she spread it over the prone form.

He didn't even budge when she gently slipped the boots from his feet. Placing them on the ground, she sat on the coffee table and took a minute to look at the man who had declared himself their unofficial protector.

She had balked at it – of course – but had discovered after the first night, that regardless of her opinion, Marcus simply let himself in and spent the night on the couch, gone at dawn the next morning.

Standing, refusing to believe that Drovers would be a target, yet knowing that they could very easily be, she spared one last look at the sleeping man. On impulse, she reached forward and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

Returning upstairs, she hated to admit it, but she was glad he was there.

* * *

_Next chapter: _Number two.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Finally seeing the turn off for Drovers Run – and annoyed to the high heavens that it had taken him so bloody long to get here – Will Dawes drove his hired 4WD up the long gravel road. Spotting the large house before him, he parked the car, opened his door and surveyed the place.

_Didn't look like much. _

He startled when he heard metal hit metal, and turned to see a tall blonde haired man throwing a circle of wire into the back tray of a ute. He made his way over next, each foot placed with precision. "Can I help you?" he asked in a friendly tone.

"Yeah," Will replied. "I'm looking for Stevie Hall."

He was surprised at the man's wary response. "Who wants to know?"

Whatever he might have said was interrupted by a noise from the ute, what sounded like a baby's cry.

"Excuse me."

All Will could do was watch the man return to the car and stick his head in the cab.

"Marcus?"

Now _that _was a voice he could recognise anywhere. Turning, he saw a flame haired woman step out onto the porch, the flyscreen door slapping closed behind her. He knew the exact moment she recognised him.

"Will," she said in a flat tone.

He got straight to the point. "I need our kid."

He saw her look past him, and turned his head to see what she was looking at: the blonde haired man called Marcus, now with a whiny toddler on his hip. He had no idea what transpired between the two of them, but it was Stevie who turned back to him. "Why?" she gritted out.

_Ah, straight to the point as always. _

"I'm dying."

He could see that she was taken aback, but still eyed him warily. "So you want to meet your daughter before you die?"

"It's a girl?" _It didn't really matter either way._

He winced at her incredulous laugh. "You didn't even know it was a girl."

She threw her hands up in the air. "Of course you couldn't have known," she continued harshly. Glaring daggers, he was ashamed to say that he took a step back. "You abandoned me."

"And now I'm dying," he shot back, hoping for a guilt trip.

It seemed to work, as she paused a moment and swallowed her words. "Rose isn't here."

"Well, where is she?" he said exasperatedly, keen on getting away from this place, the crying brat really getting on his nerves. "I need to get her tested."

"Tested?" The woman before him exploded. "Tested?"

"I think it's time for you to leave mate," came the quiet voice behind him.

But Stevie clearly wasn't done yet.

"How dare you come and demand to see my daughter – the daughter you have never known – so you can save your own sorry skin." She spat on the ground between them. "Over my dead body."

The fuming woman stormed past him, ripped open the door of the ute, slammed it shut loudly and drove off in a cloud of dust. Turning to the man jostling the whimpering baby in his arms beside him, he tried to appeal his good nature.

"You're Stevie's husband right?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Help a man out?"

The man's voice showed quiet anger as he took a step toward him, a protective hand on the back of the child resting against his shoulder. "Get off this property."

He left.

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_Next chapter: _Number three.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

"You don't think it's strange?" asked a nervous Stevie, standing before the floor length mirror, running her hands over her simple wedding dress.

"Not at all," said Grace firmly. "You love each other and you're getting married."

"And besides," added Moira, "it's not that strange. Women married brothers all the time in the olden days."

Jaz coughed and Tayler snorted, both trying – and failing – to hide her laughter.

Moira looked at the younger women, before turning back to the bride with a wince. "Probably not what you were wanting to hear?"

Stevie took a deep breath. "I knew this was going to be strange."

"Are you getting cold feet?" asked a concerned Rachel.

Stevie struggled to breathe. "I don't know if I can do this." She made for the door, but found it suddenly blocked by a group of determined women.

"Ask yourself one question," said Meg gently. "If Marcus left tomorrow – without you – how would you feel?"

The prospect of being alone, without his protective embrace, hit her hard below the ribs. It must have shown on her face, for the women looked at her smugly. "That's your answer then."

Stevie stood before the mirror once again, trying – and failing – to suppress the butterflies as she offered a wan smile. "Let's do this."

* * *

Arriving at the back paddock in the decked out ute, she gingerly stepped out, wondering belatedly about the sense in having a white dress on the dusty ground.

She looked beyond the large group of people gathered, but stilled as she heard her son crying. Xander wasn't settling in the arms of his minder, and as she made to move to him, she suddenly found herself in a direct line of sight with her husband-to-be.

It was Marcus who left his place at the head of the makeshift aisle and reached for the toddler in the front row.

Stevie could feel tears pooling in her eyes as she watched him tuck her baby boy into his arms, rocking him against his chest, placing a kiss on his downy hair as he settled.

It went against every feminist bone in her body, but she was tired of being strong, going at it alone. It hit her suddenly that she was doing the right thing: she had herself a good man, and second chances didn't come often in life.

Marcus lifted his head then and their gaze locked. She felt the jolt of awareness within her as she smiled back. As her fiancée handed the sleeping Xander back, she spared a glance upwards.

"Thanks Alex."

* * *

_Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you... Mr and Mrs Turner. _


End file.
